


What dreams we imagine when standing by the sea

by Baryshnikov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance, Stream of Consciousness, hand holding, the sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16765639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baryshnikov/pseuds/Baryshnikov
Summary: Standing in the shallows, water lapping his ankles, Harry couldn't help but wonder his place in the world.





	What dreams we imagine when standing by the sea

**Author's Note:**

> I actually managed to write a happy Harry and Draco :)

Harry was standing in the sea, not very deep, it only lapped his ankles, the seafoam licking his bare skin and reminding what it felt like to be alive. There was a joy and a horror in knowing he was alive. He shouldn’t be, everyone knew that. Everyone knew he should have died a long time ago. He should have thrown off the mortal coil and died like a hero, but instead, he was standing in the sea looking into the distance and wondering whether the future was ever going to catch up with him.  
Harry wasn’t scared to die, he’d done it before, he just didn’t want to quite yet. He had a few more years to dance on the edge of the earth, a few more smiles to give and hearts to warm, a few more moments of life left to live.  
The water lapped closer, the tide was coming in and it was so quiet. Harry liked being here by the sea, so soft and calming, an endless expanse that gave him perspective. The soothing roll of the waves was a reminder of what mattered in the world, and how truly immaterial humanity was. It was consoling to know that there was a greater power just lurking out there in the depths of nothingness. Sometimes he wanted to dive too deep and see the world from another angle. That was one of his greatest desires, to lie on the ocean floor staring at the endless murk above him, the crushing, devastating darkness that somehow would lead him to a better place. But he didn’t dare do that though. He didn’t want to die, not yet, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like. He’d felt it before, that coldness and brightness and whiteness, too sheer and too clinical to have been a comfort.  
He shook away those thoughts, and wriggled his toes, digging them into the wet sand, it was colder than he expected, though he should have known. The earth was hardly warm today, the sun locked behind a wall of cloud and a haze in the air. The water droplets were gathering as if controlled by magic. They swirled and shifted into a grey vapour that hung just above the water, almost like an inverted shadow, undulating and rippling just as the water did. It was beautiful.  
It remained to be beautiful even as this limitless sea fog starting to roll gently towards him, grey and strangely comforting, wrapping around the edges of his vision, staining the periphery with white. So, damp on his skin, so suffocating and so safe. He wanted to stay enveloped forever by this monstrous leviathan that had come to swallow him. Opening his mouth, the salt was heavy on his tongue, bitter and wet and fun. He wanted to dance in the water, and then realised that no one was there to stop him. He was completely alone surrounded by a light mist and a thousand dreams for the future.  
So, Harry danced, skipping over the waves, splashing and laughing, giving himself, just for a moment, the childhood he was robbed of. He let himself relax and feel the simple joy of playing in the waves. He could stay forever amongst those waves, chasing a dream he didn’t yet understand, laughing at his world and everything he’d done and everything he’d yet to do. There were so many things he still wanted to see, so many things he didn’t yet know how to do, but he knows that he wants them. There are a thousand lives he has lived and now he knows he’s looking for another one, and soon it will emerge from the waves and connect itself to him as part of a divine inspiration.  
Harry tried to jump another wave but missed it, and grey sea cracked open against his skin wetting his clothes with salt water. He couldn’t help but smile at his own clumsiness, he couldn’t help but smile at the world and at every beautiful thing that wanders within it. Part of him just wanted to stare at the sky and see if he can see the maker of this brilliance, he couldn’t but that didn’t stop him trying. Just standing there spinning in happy circles until the waves push him over and he’s wet-through again and painted with sea foam. He wished this was what it was like every day.  
Sitting in the water, shivering with his hands red and his lips stinging, he felt more alive than he ever did in his years chasing death. The simple things are what he has always lived for, and in that guileless moment he understood, he was waiting for a purpose, and now sitting in the water soaked through, his heart pounding, he has found it. His hands have scraped the wonder that he was so anxious to find, and now there is nothing but his burning lungs and an infinite joy in his body. He could always see the past and the vague future, but now he can see where his finite existence fits into the infinite passage of time.  
There is no time for him to ponder on the epiphany though, as he could hear someone shouting from the beach, calling his name and he turns and sees the silhouette that always makes him smile. The only real decent that the war ever did, was expose the good where Harry never thought good could be. It shone the light into the darkness and beautiful things glittered under its gaze.  
Draco was one of those beautiful things. Not perfect, but slowly chiselling away at his own imperfections, erasing inbred assumption, and doing his best to amend those he’d wronged when he blindly followed another’s doctrine. Age and war had humbled him, and now Harry could think of no one else he would rather look on. No one else he would rather hold his hand with on the beach. No one else he’d rather stand side by side with, the waves lapping their bare feet.  
Draco came down from the beach and stood next to him, looking out at the horizon, visible through the dissipating fog. The sun was setting and carving a golden pathway across the water. Harry took his hand like they were children, and perhaps they were. Just children dreaming of what it was like to be grown up. He didn’t want to be grown anymore, he wanted to be young and have children’s dreams, the ones he’d never had. He wanted to kiss like it was there first time and smile at the innocence of it all.  
So, he turned to Draco and he smiled searching for the angels in his eyes. Then Harry kissed him gently under the pale warmth of the sun, with the waves splashing their feet reminding themselves that it felt so good to be alive.  
Together they stood in the sea, not very deep, the water lapping of their ankles. Together they stared into the warm light. Together they held hands, smiling at the clichéd romance of it all, and because it was the happiest either of them had ever been. Together they stood, bare feet on the sand, sharing a dream that they knew had come true.


End file.
